


Anywhere Is

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-28
Updated: 2006-03-28
Packaged: 2018-08-15 21:47:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8073904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: T'Pol considers leaving Enterprise; Archer sets her straight. (11/2002)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Vague spoilers for 2.07 "The Seventh," but nothing serious. *My first Enterprise fanfic!*  


* * *

> The moon upon the ocean  
> Is swept around in motion  
> But without ever knowing  
> The reason for its flowing  
> In motion on the ocean  
> The moon still keeps on moving  
> The waves still keep on waving  
> And I still keep on going...

Call it intuition. Maybe it was. Or maybe...just _maybe_...my thoughts were so wired upon a certain pair of pointy ears that it was like those old word association games. Door chime = T'Pol. Porthos perking to attention = T'Pol. Decontamination chamber...whoa buddy, where did that come from?

In any case, I knew who was ringing my doorbell at that late, late hour before she even stepped in the door. I'm even embarrassed to admit that I had a mental image of her standing outside in those silky green pajamas she wears. Hell, I'm embarrassed to admit that I _know_ what color pajamas she wears...she's my First Officer, for crying out loud! And a Vulcan to boot. If Starfleet command could somehow peer into my mind, at this precise moment of my life, without seeing the larger picture, it could totally be interpreted the wrong way. I'd probably be demoted down to crewman in a heartbeat. But nevertheless the scene unfolded.

"Come in," I called out. The door opened and T'Pol entered. I felt a quick flash of something...disappointment?...and then it was gone almost instantly. No civvies. This was Sub-Commander T'Pol, not my friend who I'd come to respect as a person over the past year and a half. She was here for business.

Hands clasped professionally behind her back, she paused. I watched her facial expressions play across her features in the dim lighting for a moment. Her eyes wandered quickly around the room and her lips tightened ever so slightly. Maybe I pride myself too much on my Vulcan Expression Interpretation, but I _know_ T'Pol. She seemed uncomfortable at best, downright fidgety at worst. Just what was troubling her?

"Captain," she greeted me coolly, her voice betraying none of the anxiousness I sensed she was feeling.

"T'Pol?" I sat up in bed, laying down the book I was reading. "What can I do for you?"

She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. Her lips tightened even more. Highly unusual. 

What the devil? "Oh," I croaked, turning my own shade of crimson. She had caught me without a shirt on. Ah, for Christ's sake! I _sleep_ like this! It's late at night, certainly she can't expect _everyone_ to still be in uniform! As I fumbled around for a t-shirt, I could still feel those cool, calculated eyes staring at me in what must have been disapproval. Great, just another thing to add to her list of human peculiarities. _Does not wear clothes in off hours._ I warrant that'll earn me a court martial next time.

"S-sorry," I stammered. The sound was muffled as I pulled the shirt over my head. Her hands dropped to her side, a sign that I recognized as her easing up a bit. Good girl. After I had settled myself once more, I shrugged. "So, what's up?"

She shifted her weight. Apparently she wasn't going to make herself at home; though given the somewhat messy condition of my quarters, I couldn't say I blamed her.

"I couldn't sleep," she said softly.

Oh? Was that all? "Well, I can see why. I don't sleep well in uniform either."

Apparently she didn't appreciate my humor. She blinked slowly, the closest thing to an eye roll that a Vulcan can manage. "I didn't feel it would be appropriate to come here in a night robe, Captain."

_And why not?_ Once again, I was treated to a mental image of my science officer in those form-fitting turquoise pajamas. They brought out the green in her eyes so beautifully. My throat caught and I felt bad for that little quipâ€”it wasn't necessary, and I had just insulted her. _Dammit, Jon...you never were good with women, you little bastard..._

"Of course not. I'm sorry. You came here to talk like two civilized people, not for me to take shots at you. Would you care to sit?" I patted the spot next to me.

She stiffened noticeably, and there was a flash of something in her eyes. Panic? "I don't think that would be appropriate either."

Looking down at the bed, I felt stupid. Of course not. Sit on my bed, what a ridiculous notion! Sometimes I think I overestimate the closeness of the bond we share. If Trip had come in to chat, the way we do on occasion, the two of us would cozy up on the most comfortable piece of furniture in my quartersâ€”the bed. But T'Pol was a woman, and a Vulcan woman at that. She may have come a long way, but she was still no fuzzy bunny. I felt my face warm once more at my obvious lack of judgment. _Strike two, buddy ol' pal..._

"Right...you're right again." I jumped to my feet, pulled up a hard folding chair, and popped it open. "Here."

I felt remotely guilty that it had to be her shapely bottom on that hard, cold chair while I sat on the cushy bed, but knew she would not have it any other way. She was already uncomfortable with my tactless approach to a heart-to-heart chat...certainly it couldn't get any worse. What the hell was _wrong_ with me? Why was I so _nervous?_ This was T'Pol, one of my best and closest friends, not the object of my lustful fantasies.

Or was she? Not wanting to go down that path, I changed gears.

"So..." I gestured as she sat. "Any ideas as to why you can't sleep?"

Her features softened and she hesitated. "I believe you humans call it 'mind chatter.'"

Ah. As a diagnosed insomniac, I knew the pains all too well. Though for a Vulcan to suffer from "mind chatter" was really saying something; they had to have the most disciplined minds I'd ever heard of. I smiled. This was getting easier. At least she hadn't come to me with "girl problems," things I would know nothing about. I doubted Hoshi stayed up as late as I did.  
"Care to spill the beans?"

Her brow lifted at my choice of expression, but she spoke without missing a beat. "My life has reached a crossroadâ€”I am not sure how to proceed."

My heart fluttered. She was coming to me for advice? Calm, wise, logical T'Pol, who always had an answer for everything, needed help. It suddenly occurred to me at that moment how vulnerable she looked, how uncertain. It was both flattering and unnerving. I remembered seeing it on her face the evening before we went to capture Menos. That was nearly four weeks ago now. Her haunted, desperate expression as she had asked...no, pleaded, really...for me to come with her. It was something I hoped I'd never see on my faithful science officer's face again.

She was looking at me like that tonight. A sort of resigned expression that conveyed to me she had given this a great deal of thought. Spent many hours meditating, or whatever else Vulcans do when faced with making difficult decisions. Obviously this was something logic could not solve. And she had come to _me_ for advice.

"And...what is this..crossroad...in your life?" My throat felt dry. And even if I were psychic, there would have been no way to predict the impact of her next question.

"Should I leave Enterprise?"

I felt like I had been slugged in the chest; my mouth dropped. Leave Enterprise? What kind of question was that? A thousand angry words and at least as many wounded ones flooded my mind, all raring to strike her with their passion. It took a good effort to contain them; I know well enough the consequences of speaking before I think.

"What?" I croaked.

T'Pol drew in a deep breath and blinked. "Should I leave Enterprise?"

"And...why would you want to do that?" I gaped. I couldn't help it. She wasn't making any sense, and I doubted I was either, but heaven help me! She had just delivered a crippling blow that I was completely unguarded against.

"I wasn't prepared for the intensity of emotions on this ship. As a result, I have...struggled...to keep them from affecting me, though clearly I have not been successful. I do not belong here, Captain."

Her voiced tinged with sorrow and regret. I can't even begin to describe how that ate at my heart. This was a truly private confession, one that any self-righteous Vulcan would be embarrassed to admit to. But not T'Pol. Not _my_ T'Pol. As I looked into her eyes, raw emotion filtered there. She had opened herself up to me, and there was a long moment of silence before I found myself able to speak.

"The hell you don't belong here. You are part of the reason why this mission has been a success. All the data we've collected, the good times we've had...my god, I might have expected this from you a year ago, but look how far you've come! You can't quit on us now, T'Pol. You can't."

"Is that the Captain speaking, or is it Jonathan Archer?"

I blinked. As much as I hated to admit it, she had a point. But damn her! So what if personal bias had worked its way into the equation; I would have done the same for any other member of this crew. I couldn't do this without them, _any_ of them! _But especially T'Pol,_ a little voice nagged. I pushed it away.

"We need you, T'Pol." I wanted to take her and shake her by her slender shoulders until she understood. She couldn't do this to us. To me. " _I_ need you."

"Precisely why I should leave. What has happened between us, this bond, should not have happened. Nothing can logically come of it."

So it wasn't about her. It was about us. She wanted to leave because somewhere, somehow, in between the verbal sparring and clashing of ideals, we had begun to see each other as more than just human and Vulcan, Captain and subordinate. And it disturbed her. It disturbed _me._ When had that happened? I didn't have a clue. It was bitter irony that that thorn in my side had suddenly become my closest friend. _And the woman you're madly in love with,_ the obnoxious voice prodded.

"What's the matter, T'Pol?" I was starting to get angry. "Afraid that you might be becoming a little too attached to this crew? Are we not worth investing just a little bit of emotion into?"

"You are mistaken. Vulcans do not experience emotion." Her green eyes flashed.

"Bullshit! That punch line doesn't fool me anymore. I know you well enough to know you experience emotion just like the rest of us. You just choose to bury it so you don't have to deal with the consequences. Well, I've got news for you, _Sub-Commander,_ we humans can't _bury_ our emotions like you can. If I have to deal with having fallen for you, for god only knows whatever reason, then so should _you._ In whatever way you can."

"Captain, I cannot..."

"You're staying, T'Pol, and that's an order!"

If looks could kill, I would be dead by now. The venom that was coming from her eyes was enough to have killed me three times over. Vulcan eye warfare was dangerous business. Not experiencing emotion, my ass! T'Pol was angry. And hurt, and confused, and I could see a number of other emotions washing over her troubled face. It made me feel satisfied that I had made a point.

"That is a selfish decision," she whispered icily.

"Is it? What about yours to leave Enterprise?"

Nothing. A practiced, slow blink, meant to defy me without having said a word. Ooooh, that woman was good. I wanted to strangle her and kiss her passionately until she changed her mind, all at the same time. 

"I was acting on both our interests. Now you have condemned us both." She sounded on the verge of tears.

Condemned? "Just what are you so afraid of, T'Pol?"

I watched her face. I could almost hear the conditioned response coming from her mind, _Vulcans don't experience fear,_ but she wisely kept it contained. Her lower lip was trembling and I'll be damned if she wasn't afraid. For a brief moment I felt angry at myself for ordering her to stay. If I'm the cause of so much misery, who am I to keep her here? That was wrong, very wrong. Enterprise was no internment camp.

_But T'Pol, you can't go..._

I backed out of her personal space, allowing that to sink in. 

She swallowed. "Thank you Captain, for that advice. If there is nothing more, I shall return to my quarters now."

Oh no. She couldn't just leave it there, hanging like that. If nothing else, I couldn't stand watching her leave and knowing that I had been the cause of her humiliation. I felt horrible. For supposedly not having emotions, Vulcans sure knew how to pull a guilt trip.

"Wait, T'Pol...I'm sorry. You put your trust in me to help you with a sensitive issue, and I tore that trust to shreds. You're right. Maybe I only had my own interests at stake here. But for Pete's sake, when are you going to start paying attention to _your_ own interests?"

She looked puzzled. "Captain?"

I smiled. "Jonathan, please. We're out of uniform. Or at least I am."

She nodded her acceptance, though she still wouldn't say my name. I sighed. That was something that would have to come with time. But I was pleased to see her face relax, her arms fall once more to her sides. It wasn't a quiet resignation to my orders either. It appeared that she seemed more comfortable with the situation. Maybe experiencing emotion every now and then wasn't so bad after all.

"You were right as well," she answered. "There is no honor in running away from obstacles. One should face them head on, and not be concerned with the consequences."

Inwardly I cringed. I hope she didn't see our relationship was an obstacle. It was something I hoped she would one day accept with open armsâ€”literally and figuratively. Until then, I took pride in the fact that she had acknowledged something was there. She _felt_ something for me, just as I did for her. One small step for T'Pol, one giant leap for Vulcankind. Outwardly I smiled. I was proud of her.

"So I'm taking it you don't want to leave Enterprise anymore?"

"You were going to let me go?"

I grinned. She was teasing, flirting with me in her own special way, and I recognized it as such.

"I never said that," I flirted back. I was gratified to receive that almost-smile, the merest curve of her lips, in return. It suddenly occurred to me how much I wanted to kiss those lips. More shocking still, I realized how often I had sub-consciously daydreamed about doing such a thing, blissfully aware and yet not quite aware at the same time.

As she turned to exit my quarters, my mouth felt dry. Did I dare?

"Hey, T'Pol..."

She stopped. Everything suddenly seemed to be moving in slow motion as I watched her turn around to face me once more. I became very much aware of everything at that moment. Her slender body that had suddenly gone rigid in anticipation, her delicate, elvish features and gracefully pointed ears...

...and then I had somehow crossed the space between us and I had pressed my hand into the small of her back, pulling her against me into a passionate lip-lock. Her eyes grew wide at the last moment, but I couldn't hesitate. If I did, I probably would have lost my nerve. My last coherent thought before losing myself in her was that she was going to kill me when I came up for air...

Her lips were warm and soft, and carried a taste that was distinctly T'Pol and no one else. It was a moment I knew I would savor for the rest of my life. She did not return the kiss, but then again, I did not expect her to. I wasn't even sure that this was how Vulcans showed affection. As much as I wanted this to continue, I restrained myself. I allowed her to break off the kiss of her own free will and waited for the blow.

She stared at me for a long moment, those wonderful lips that I had just kissed parted in shock. Here it was. She was either going to go kung-fu on my ass or never speak to me again, and I had a good idea of which I preferred. I simply waited for her to respond, ready to accept whatever consequences she would dish out. But God, she was beautiful...

"I do believe that was the most appropriate thing you've done all evening, Jonathan," she answered finally. With one last half-smile, she left me standing there in shock, the weight of what she said still taking much too long to sink in.

She had to be the most unpredictable anomaly on this entire starship. I didn't know if I liked that or not.

> To leave the thread of all time  
> And let it make a dark line  
> In hopes that I can still find  
> The way back to the moment  
> I took the turn and turned to  
> Begin a new beginning  
> Still looking for the answer  
> I cannot find the finish  
> It's either this or that way  
> It's one way or the other  
> It should be one direction  
> It could be on reflection  
> The turn I have just taken  
> The turn I was just making  
> I might be just beginning  
> I might be near the end.


End file.
